One Day At A Time
by Sux2budude
Summary: Donald and Stacie struggles with having a baby on the way, trying to juggle school and work, and everything else. It won't be easy, but they'll take it, one day at a time. Sequel to "With You".
1. Chapter 1

Title: One Day At A Time

Pairing: Donald/Stacie

Disclaimer: I don't own anything... Including Pitch Perfect.

Author's Note: Okay, I know I said it wouldn't take long to post this story, but it actually took a while because someone (my little brat of a brother) "accidentally" deleted a whole bunch of files from my computer, and one of those files happened to contain the original chapter one of this story, as well as chapter two. So thanks to that dimwitted-four-eyed brother of mine, I had to re-write this. It's not exactly word for word, but its close enough. Anyway, this chapter is going to be about Donald finally getting in good terms with his mother, because like the title of chapter one: (New Beginnings), I want this whole story to start out fresh, and with no hateful, regretful, terrible, achy problems and stuff like that. Anyway, enjoy!

-Sux2budude

* * *

Chapter One: New Beginnings

-SD-

* * *

...

There are _a lot_ of things that Donald hates. One of those things, is being woken up at the ass-crack of dawn by his cell phone, ringing from the other side of his bedroom.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Donald carefully slips out of bed, careful not to wake up his sleeping, pregnant girlfriend. He silently prays that she won't wake up because if she does, he won't be going back to sleep anytime soon. He'd be driving down to the closest Burger King for whatever burger she would crave. Donald sighs in relief, smiling triumphantly when he manages to get out of bed without waking Stacie up. He tip-toes towards his desk, where his phone is currently blaring loudly, and he's not at all surprised to see his sisters name flashing across the screen (She _never _considers what he may be doing at the times she calls, let alone check what time it may be, wherever he is.) Sighing in a bit of annoyance, he answers with a loud, snappish whisper of, "What?"

"Good to hear your voice too, little bro." Daphne replies.

Donald rolls his eyes as he plops down on his desk chair and glances over at Stacie's still slumbering form. He cracks a small smile, sighing as he leans back on his desk chair. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much. I just called to let you know that we are having dinner with mom tonight."

Donald resists the urge to groan out loud, choosing to do it mentally, "Sorry, but uhhh... I can't."

"Why not?" Daphne demands.

"Because Stacie and I already made plans for tonight." Donald lies. He and Stacie aren't doing anything at all tonight, and the last thing he wants to do on a Sunday night, is have dinner with his mother. His sister, he can tolerate. But his mother? He's not so sure. Dinner's with his mom, are always a disaster. Everyone is quiet, acting as if nothing is completely wrong with the way their family behaves around each other, and there is almost always, a half hour long awkward silence. On top of that, Dinner means eating _and _talking. It's never about _just _eating dinner. It's more than that, and quite frankly, Donald doesn't think he can bear to speak about the way things have been ever since his mother left his father for some douchebag he never cared to know.

"What _kind_ of plans?" Daphne questions.

"Uhhh, plans that don't concern you."

"And what time do these plans of yours end?"

Donald silently curses his sisters ability to find the loopholes in his lies. "Uhhh, you know... midnight."

"Great! We'll have breakfast at two in the morning then."

"You know, there's this thing that normal human beings do at two in the morning, Daph... It's called sleeping. You should try it." he says sarcastically.

"Well then come to dinner at eight, and you can sleep at two." Daphne retorts.

Donald sighs heavily. "I hate you, you know that?"

"No you don't... and don't even think of trying the guilt-trip route this time, Donald. I know all your tricks. We're still having dinner..." Daphne finalizes. "Whatever time you're available."

"Yeah, well that is gonna take a long while." Donald grins. "My schedule is fully booked."

Daphne snorts loudly, "Oh, Donnie... Haven't you learned anything? You can _never _lie to me. Not even on the phone. So I'm calling bullshit on your plans with Stacie, and you and Stacie will be joining me and mom tonight for dinner at my place, at 8P.M."

"Wait, what?" Donald asks, sitting up in his chair, "Did you just say me _and _Stacie?"

"Yep. Mom said she already met Stacie back at the hospital after the accident, but she wants to let you officially introduce Stacie as your girlfriend, to us."

Donald is quiet for a moment, trying to make sense of what his sister is saying to him. He finally reacts, laughing humorlessly. "No can do, Daph." he says shaking his head.

"Donald! I am your older sister, and as the eldest child, I will tell you what to do, and you will do it. Get your butt to my place tonight at 8, and you better not be late." her voice venomous. "Oh, and tell Stacie I said, HI!" Daphne adds brightly.

Donald shakes his head, "I'm not getting out of this one, am I?"

"Not a chance, bro."

Donald nods, sighing in defeat. "Fine... but if something goes off, we're leaving, got it?"

"As long as you show up and actually put some effort into trying, I can deal with that."

Donald nods, sighing heavily. "Okay... Well, as much as I'd love to talk on the phone with you for another month longer, I have to get back in bed before Stacie figures out that my pillow is not me."

Daphne laughs loudly. "You are _so_ whipped."

Donald doesn't bother denying it, because frankly, if he denies it, he'd be lying. "I know." he smiles. "Good night, Daph."

"Good night, Don. Sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite." Daphne laughs. "And see you tonight. _Don't_ be late!"

Donald hangs up, sighing heavily as he pads back towards his bed, and slipping in slowly next to his girlfriend.

* * *

-DS-

...

Donald nervously adjusts his tie as he stares at the mirror. For the umpteenth time that day, he wishes he had been solid on disagreeing with Daphne with having dinner tonight. He's pulled out of his thoughts by Stacie walking up to him, smacking his hands away from his tie, and straightening it out herself. "You're sweating." she points out.

Donald looks down at his shirt, seeing sweat stain at the neck. "Shit." he mutters under his breath.

Stacie smiles softly at him, putting a hand under his chin and pulling his eyes up to meet hers. "I'm sure it'll be fine... I mean what's the worst that could happen?"

Donald shakes his head, swallowing hard as his thoughts flit back to a memory from nearly a year ago. "The last time I had dinner with my mom, she brought her husband and I was barely there for five minutes before I bolted..." he trails off staring at Stacie with a worried expression. "I couldn't stand being in the same room with the both of them."

Stacie kisses him gently before pulling away slightly to look into his eyes. "Daphne said it would just be you, me, her, and your mom... It'll be fine."

"Oh, you can see the future now?" Donald asks with a raised brow.

Stacie rolls her eyes at him, "No. But I _did _meet your mom and your sister, and I honestly think they're great people... They just want to see you, and quite frankly, you're lucky to have them in your life. I don't have siblings, and I don't have a mother... You have no idea what I'd give to see my mother again. It's too late for me." She says softly kissing him again. "It's not too late for you... and I'm sure it will go okay tonight, so just relax."

Donald finally relaxes, breathing in deeply and managing a tiny smile. "This is why I love you so much." he says softly.

Stacie smiles widely at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as his snake around her waist. "Why is that?" she asks curiously, cocking her head to the side.

"Because you make everything okay for me... You make sense and you understand me." he shrugs. "I think God may have made you specifically for me."

Stacie bites her lip gently, squinting at him. "You've always had a way with words."

Donald then pulls out the smirk, his hands trailing down her back to rest above her ass. "Yeah well, girls have always loved my mouth because-"

"I will knee you in the crotch if you finish that sentence." Stacie cuts him off with narrowed eyes.

Donald lets out a nervous chuckle, not at all doubting that she _would _knee him in the balls. "Sorry." he mutters apologetically.

"Mhmm." Stacie nods pecking his lips lightly. "Your mouth usually utter things that can have my panties dropping, but it's also the only thing that can get you in trouble."

Donald smiles sheepishly as he kisses her gently, hoping she'll forgive his slip-up. "Forgive me." he smiles cheekily.

Stacie laughs, letting him kiss her as she finishes straightening his tie. "Yeah. Now remember. Behave yourself tonight."

Donald smirks at her, cocking an eyebrow. "And if I don't?"

Stacie laughs, "Then you can get acquainted with the couch." with a small kiss to the lips, she leaves him there to watch as she walks back out of the bathroom, swaying her hips purposely. "Let's go." she calls over her shoulder.

* * *

-SD-

…

The drive down to Daphne's house was quite uneventful, considering all the cornfields they had to drive through, and Stacie was beyond happy when they finally reached their destination after three long hours. Donald nervously fidgets with his tie as they walk to the door. "Babe, relax." Stacie says to him as she smacks his hand away from his tie. "You'll drop the wine bottle if you keep playing with your tie."

Donald finally pulls his hand away from his tie, taking deep breaths. He almost looks like he's about to have an asthma attack, so Stacie grabs his face, forcing him to look straight into her eyes. "Donald, breathe… Everything is going to be fine, okay?" she hopes he would at least calm down a bit, seeing that his hands are slightly shaking.

He nods, taking more deep breaths. "Yeah, we'll be fine. Totally." Stacie isn't sure whether he actually believes that, or if he's saying it to try to convince himself, but she kisses him softly, and reassuringly.

"Just be yourself, and calm down." She whispers.

He continues to nod, straightening out his black button down shirt. "How do I look?" he asks nervously.

Stacie takes a step back to give him the once over before smiling up at him. "You look very handsome… And you're shaking, so stop." She says half seriously.

Again, he nods.

"Great. Now smile."

He does, but it's an awkward, nervous kind of smile. Stacie smooth's down his hair, kissing him once more before turning back to the door, and finally ringing the doorbell.

A few moments later, the door swings open, revealing Daphne in a sweatshirt and yoga pants, complete with a huge, relieved smile. "Finally!" she exclaims, first pulling Stacie into a fierce hug, and kissing her on the cheek, before turning to Donald. "I was beginning to think you weren't gonna come."

Donald smiles, welcoming the hug from his sister. "You said 8 p.m., didn't you?"

"I did, but that usually means 7:30 sharp." Daphne shrugs, turning back to Stacie and grinning down at her belly. "How's my favorite nephew or niece?"

"He or she is your _only _nephew or niece, Daph." Donald points out.

"Whatever, squirt. It's still gonna be my favorite."

Stacie laughs at that as Daphne pulls her along the hallway leading into the den. "He or she is doing wonderfully… According to Dr. Welch, he or she is the size of a large grapefruit."

"I love grapefruits! I can see this kid loving me_ so _much already." Daphne grins.

"I'm sure it will." Stacie smiles, rubbing her stomach gently.

Donald looks around the den, turning to look at Daphne questioningly. "Where's mom?"

"In the kitchen." Daphne grins as she takes the bottle of wine from Donald, examining it. "Aged Grenache, huh? Couldn't settle for the 'ole Moscatto? Or Sangria?"

"I'm not cheap like you, Daph." Donald teases.

Daphne scoffs at him, "Please, little bro… Spare yourself from losing to me in a verbal war."

Stacie watches in amusement as the siblings continue to playfully banter back and forth for a while, until they're interrupted by Julia clearing her throat loudly from the doorway. "Hello, dear." She says to Stacie first, crossing the room and pulling the four months pregnant girl into a warm embrace. "I hope you received that care package I sent you last month?"

"I did." Stacie grins widely. "Thank you so much for that." Last month, Stacie received a small box in the mail, addressed to her, from Donald's mom. When she opened it, she tear'd up a bit when she found a free pass at a Spa Center near Atlanta, a couple of lotions, sanitizers, a cute tiny teddy bear, and a $300 gift card for Babies 'R Us. Attached to the box, was a small note.

_-I had a serious case of OCD when I was pregnant with Donald, and I hope these can help you at some point when you reach that phase in your pregnancy. The gift card is from a friend of mine who is a manager at Babies R' Us, and the Spa treatment is from me. For that time when it's terribly difficult to relax. I hope you two are doing well. Extend my love to Donald and the baby._

_-Julia_

"You're welcome." Julia smiles warmly, "And there's plenty more on the way." She says, stepping back to rub Stacie's stomach. "How's the pregnancy coming along?"

"Oh, it's actually progressing wonderfully. The doctor says it's about the size of a large grapefruit, and it's developing normally."

"Good." Julia then looks towards Donald, who's really just standing there, looking at Stacie. "How are you, Donnie?" Julia asks her son, as she approaches him.

Donald smiles awkwardly as he lets his mom pull him into a tight embrace. "I've been great."

"Good. That's good to hear."

As awkward as that was, their dinner actually went by pretty well. Everyone turned their attention to Stacie and the baby, and she tried her best to answer every question Julia and Daphne had for her. Julia gave some pretty useful advice, and tips about different phases in pregnancy and what to expect, and Stacie tried her best to remember it all. Donald on the other hand, only spoke when he was spoken to. And when he did speak, it was to answer a question that was directed to him. Stacie was sure he wasn't feeling very great this evening, and she tries her best to give him a reassuring, and comforting look from across the table where she was seated next to Daphne. After dinner, they move back into the den, where they had a glass of wine each, save for Stacie who indulged in a glass of sparkling cider and a plate of cookies, scones, and coffee cakes set on the coffee table.

And for the first time since they arrived, the problem was addressed, by Stacie. "So, I don't mean to be nosy or anything, but… What exactly happened all those years ago?"

Everyone practically freezes. Daphne recovers first, letting out a long sigh. "I think it's time we talk about this."

Julia nods in agreement, and Donald just sits still, staring at the wine glass in his hands.

"I left when Donald and Daphne were… younger." Julia begins slowly. Her eyes are already beginning to mist up a bit, and Stacie could see the pain she's going through as she begins to retell what happened all those years ago that broke their family apart. "I made the biggest mistake in my life the night I left. The night I made the decision to leave my children, and I swear to God that I felt like my heart break in half after I left…" She trails off, looking pointedly at her children. Daphne gives her an encouraging nod, and Stacie gets the feeling that Daphne had already known this, given the fact that she's already in good terms with her mom. Donald on the other hand, barely looked away from his wine glass, acting as if he's never seen anything so interesting in his life. Julia continues, her voice strained, the weariness in her voice breaking through her calm, and relaxed façade. "I was going through so much pain and heartache from all the problems that your father and I were having, and I just—I couldn't take it, and I left… I was so selfish and stupid back then, that I didn't even think of what I was putting the two of you through by leaving you two. I haven't been a mother to the both of you, and I really don't blame you for hating me, Don." Julia scoots forward from where she was seated, taking the wineglass from Donald's hands and setting it aside on the coffee table. She takes his hands in hers, waiting silently and patiently for him to look at her before continuing. "But I never stopped loving you and your sister… I never stopped thinking about the two of you, and trying to figure out a way to earn your trust again. To earn your forgiveness for all the mistakes I've made."

When Donald finally meets his mother's eyes, Stacie feels her heart ache for her boyfriend because she sees so much pain in his eyes. His forehead is creased together, his usually bright eyes, has this dark, pained look in them that she's never seen before, and they held the slightest hint of tears.

Finally, Donald blinks back his tears, and quietly mutters something that they almost didn't catch. "I've been trying so hard to hate you." He shakes his head, squeezing his mother's hands gently. "But I never could… I don't know if… if it's some sort of curse or something, but—I've always loved you, mom." He pauses, looking away and sniffling a bit, trying to regain his composure. "Even when you left, I tried so hard to delude myself into believing that you were just going away for work and that you didn't really leave us… but when you didn't come back for so long, I gave up lying to myself, and started trying to hate you… but I never did, and I never could. I_ hated_ the fact that you chose to leave me even when I needed you. I _hated_ the fact that I had to go through school, hearing about my friends gloating about the lunches their mom's made them, and I didn't even have a mom to make me anything. I just went with whatever Daphne made for me. I _hated_ the fact that dad stopped caring about us since you left, and that Daphne who was barely old enough to take care of herself, was taking care of _me_." He had tears in his eyes by then. Julia was staring at him with so much pain and regret over the past, her tears were freefalling down her cheeks, while Daphne tried to subtly wipe away the tears she hoped no one saw. Stacie sat silently, her own tears cascading down her face at the delicate, yet sad moment between mother and son. "But you know what I hated the most, mom?" Donald asks, his eyes slowly roaming the room to find the pair of eyes that never fails to make his heart beat faster. Finally, his eyes rested on Stacie's, his heart swelling inside his chest, and his lips quirking the slightest bit into a half smile. "I hated the fact that I couldn't personally introduce the woman I love, to the woman who gave me life, because we all let this problem get too far."

Julia nods, taking a moment to wipe away her tears. "You're right… I'm the mother and_ I_ should have been the one to make the mature decision. Instead, I _let_ it get so far, and I'm sorry… I'm _so so sorry_ for everything… I _never _meant for it to get _this_ big."

Daphne finally speaks, muttering a soft, "I know, mom."

Donald is silent once again, staring at Stacie who gives him an encouraging smile and nod. He takes a deep breath, giving her a tiny smile and turning back to look at his mother. "I already forgave you a while ago, mom… I just never forgave _myself_ for letting my anger and sadness get in the way of our family."

"Don, none of this is your fault. It's all mine." Julia tells him, taking his hand in hers again. "You and Daphne have been nothing, but wonderful, amazing people…_ I'm _the one who chose to walk away, and for that, I will _never_ forgive myself… So don't beat yourself up over this."

Donald smiles softly at his mom, nodding. "I'll forgive myself if_ you do_ the same… We're wasting energy resenting ourselves instead of using it to make sure our family will always be together."

Stacie smiles widely at her boyfriend, feeling extremely proud of him for finally admitting his true feelings.

Julia nods, smiling happily. "You're right… And from now on, I will do _everything_ I can to make sure we _never_ lose each other again."

The rest of the night was spent in hugs between the family, Stacie feeling grateful that they would feel the need to include her in their family. About an hour later, they finally dispersed, going their separate ways.

Stacie stayed silent as Donald drove them back to his apartment. Half way there, she finally decided to break the silence. "You okay?" she questions.

He glances at her, smiling a bit. "I think so."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

She nods, understanding his need for time and space. "Okay."

They continue that way for a while until Donald sighs heavily. "Thank You." He mutters quietly.

Stacie looks at him curiously, "For what?"

"For being there for me. For making me see what I was missing."

Stacie smiles softly at him, reaching over the center console to take his hand. "I'll always be there for you."

"I know. And I'll spend the rest of my life thanking you for that." He pulls up their intertwined hands, kissing the back of hers. "I love you."

Stacie smiles happily, feeling all the love she could possibly feel in her heart, shining in her own eyes. "I love you too, Donald."

* * *

-SD-

…

As they settle into bed for the night, Donald scoots down, laying his head gently over Stacie's stomach, and pressing his ear to it.

Stacie giggles, running her fingers through his perfectly curled hair. "What are you doing?"

"Shhh." Donald shushes, holding up a finger.

"Ugh," Stacie playfully smacks his forehead, "Don't shush me, Donald."

"Shhhhh!" Donald shushes again, this time raising his head and looking at her all too seriously. "I'm trying to listen for the baby."

"Well, don't worry about the baby. It's there. I'm sure of it."

"How do _you_ know that?"

Stacie pauses, blinking incredulously at her boyfriend. "Well I doubt it just up and left, Donald!"

"Okay, fine. Jeesh! Can I just say something to my baby before I go to bed?"

Stacie huffs, nodding her head for him to continue.

"Hey." Donald whispers softly. "Can you hear me buddy? Or baby girl?" he pauses, waiting for some kind of sign that the baby heard him. Nothing happens, so he continues. "Well, I just want you to know that mommy and I are going to bed now, and that we love you so much… Aaaand your auntie Daphne is kind of nuts, so don't be like her, okay?"

Stacie laughs at that, smacking Donald's arm. "That is _so_ mean."

"No it's not. You _know_ my sister is kind of mental."

"No, she's sweet, and amazing… didn't you say she took care of you when you were little?"

Donald pulls away then, kissing her little baby bump and whispering a soft 'goodnight, baby' before scooting up beside his girlfriend. "Yes. The more reason why our baby shouldn't be like Daphne. Do you know what I ate for lunch every day when I was in grade school?"

"What?" Stacie asks curiously.

"Tuna sandwhich."

"That isn't so ba—,"

"She put raw onions in them."

"So?"

"The onion slices were bigger than the bread."

"That's still not so ba—,"

"Babe, I had tears in my eyes by the time I was done eating it."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"But she's still a good person."

"I know… You're the_ best_ person, though."

Stacie smiles widely, wrapping her arms around his torso as he pulls her closer. "You're not so bad yourself."

"How about we—,"

"Oh my God!" Stacie jumps, her eyes going wide as saucers.

"What?" Donald pulls away, looking worriedly at her.

Instead of replying, she quickly takes his hand, pulling it to rest above her stomach. Donald blinks at her like she's crazy, but then his eyes widen too when he feels the slightest nudge at his fingertips. "Holy cow! Is that…?"

Stacie nods, a wide smile spreading across her face. She laughs heartily as Donald sits up suddenly, pulling her shirt up and running his hands over her stomach, waiting for another kick. "Calm down, I don't think it'll kick again. The doctor said it won't be too active for the first few months."

"The doctor can't predict the future, babe. Maybe there will be another one." He says, still scrutinizing her stomach. "That was the most amazing thing ever." He whispers softly, his eyes shining with joy as he starts talking to the baby again. "Baby? Can you hear me? If you can, kick once." They wait, silently for a few long moments but nothing happens.

Stacie goes to tell him that the baby was probably going back to sleep, but then she feels another kick, this one much harder than the first two, and almost painful. Donald laughs giddily, almost bouncing up and down on the bed from excitement. "It heard me!"

"Okay, calm down." Stacie laughs, loving her boyfriend's reaction to their baby's first, or rather, third kick.

"Why?" Donald whines, trying to get the baby to kick again, but Stacie smacks his hand away, pulling him up beside her.

"That's enough excitement for you for tonight." She says half seriously.

"The baby is trying to communicate with me, babe… we're supposed to encourage the excitement in the baby."

"I know that, Donald. I was actually talking to _you_." She laughs.

Donald pouts for a moment, giving her the puppy dog eyes, and the protruding lower lip.

"Aww, come here you big baby." She grabs him, hugging him tightly.

They're both silent for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts of their future and their baby before Stacie breaks the silence. "We'll be fine, right?" Donald pulls away slightly to look at her closely. "I mean, we're gonna have a baby in a couple of months, Donald. And it's not going to be easy, but… We're gonna make it, right?" She doesn't know why, but after feeling their baby kicking, she can't help but feel a bit worried because what if they're not ready for this? What if they mess up? What if somehow, they have these huge problems like Donald's parents had, and one of them decides that it's too much and walks out? She just feels sick from thinking of that ever happening to them.

Somehow, Donald knew exactly what was going through her mind, and he kisses her softly, reassuringly. "We'll be _more_ than okay, Stacie… I mean, it's _you_ and _me_. What chance does the world have against us?... None." He brushes back a stray strand of her hair, and places his hand over her stomach, on the spot where they felt their baby kick. "We'll be the best parents we can be to our baby, and we _won't_ let a single problem break us apart. I _won't _let it, and you won't either. We can do this." He encourages. And like that, Stacie's worries disappear. This is why she loves him so much. She leans into him, inhaling his intoxicating scent.

"We can do it." She repeats his last words.

"One day at a time." Donald nods.

-SD-

* * *

…

Author's Note: Okay, well that was chapter one. This chapter was meant to clear out Donald and his moms problem, and I think I wrote it rather well. Not great, but just… okay. Anyway, Chapter two will be about Stacie's struggles in school, and Donald's struggle with work. It will almost always revolve around the baby, but we all know they'll get through everything. I'll make sure of it, because… well, it's my story and I'd hate myself for letting Stacie and Donald die… Hypothetically, that is. So yeah, REVIEWS are much appreciated. Stay tuned for more Stonald-Amazingness. ;)

-Sux2budude


	2. Chapter 2

Title: One Day At A Time

Pairing: Stacie/Donald

Author's Note: Well, I thought long and hard about what to put in this chapter, and I've decided to mix things up a bit. I know that it's a bit too early to be throwing things into chaos since this is only the second chapter, but, keep in mind that what with the baby on the way, and everything that's going on, things would have to be BAD to make it interesting, if that even makes sense. I just thought it'd be a bit more lively if things start to look like an inevitable break up lining up. But, as the title says, they're going to take it, one day at a time. ;)

-Sux2budude

* * *

Chapter Two:

* * *

-DS-

…

Stacie cries hysterically for half an hour when she finds her first stretchmark. She knew it would eventually appear (with more to come), but it didn't stop her from nearly having a heart attack when she saw it. She's sitting on the bathroom floor of Donald's apartment, sobbing silently to herself. She doesn't want Donald to see her this way because she had told him that stretchmark's won't bother her. But she never really had any before, so she didn't know it would look so hideous. _What if Donald sees my stretchmark's and he's disgusted by the sight? _She wonders appallingly. She's pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of a soft knock on the bathroom door, followed by her boyfriend's voice.

"Babe? Are you okay in there?" His voice is full of concern.

Stacie quickly wipes away at her tears as she gets up off the floor. "Yeah, just… uhhh- flossing." She calls back.

"Okay, but you have to hurry or you'll be late to class again."

Stacie turns on the faucet, quickly splashing water onto her face. "I'll be out in a sec." she calls. She listens quietly, and a moment later, she hears the soft thuds of his footsteps drawing away from the door. She lets out a sigh of relief, and she leans up in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. Her eyes trail from her face, down her chest, to rest on her stomach. Her once flat, toned, stomach was now protruding slightly. She's already had six appointments with her OB/GYN, and everything seems fine. The baby's heartbeat is normal, and it's progressively growing inside her. At her most recent appointment, the doctor had told them that their baby's organs are starting to develop. She smiles at the memory of her first appointment where Donald had accompanied her, proudly telling the doctor that he is the father of her baby. Donald had been nothing short of amazing; supporting her, holding her hand, and saying short, sweet, comforting words that helped her get over her nerves. They had both had tears in their eyes when they saw their baby for the first time, Donald going speechless as he stared at the ultrasound picture in front of him. He had only snapped out of his dazed state when the doctor had asked if they wanted a DVD of the ultrasound, Donald quickly nodding, and asking if he could have a wallet-sized picture of the ultrasound as well. He has the ultrasound picture, and a single picture of her, displayed inside his wallet. She wonders if everything would change soon. Because whether they're made for each other or not, things won't always be perfect. And with a baby on the way, Stacie knows that things will only get harder for her and Donald. She just hopes that when they _do _have big problems, they would both be willing to try to make things work.

* * *

…

School is… boring, and exhausting. Stacie still hangs out with Beca, Amy, Cynthia, and even Lilly after dissolving their past problem over Donald. Their company is always welcoming especially now that her stomach is starting to show and every single student at Barden keeps staring at her baby bump.

"Hey, Stace." Beca greets warmly as she plops down beside her in the only class they have together, which is English.

"Hey." Stacie greets back rather tiredly. She hadn't been able to sleep a wink last night because the baby kept kicking her bladder, and she kept getting up every half hour to pee, which eventually woke Donald, who then had stayed up with her, not wanting to go to sleep while she lies awake awaiting the next bathroom emergency.

"You okay? You look exhausted." Beca looks at her worriedly, and for that, Stacie is grateful.

"That's because I _am _exhausted." She gently rubs her baby bump, looking down at it. "This little one was hyperactive last night and I couldn't sleep."

"I guess you and Donald haven't been having much… fun, lately huh?" Beca wriggles her eyebrows up and down.

Stacie laughs at that, thankful for the little distraction. "You have _such_ a dirty mind… but to answer your question, yes. Donald and I haven't had _any _… fun, as you put it, at all for the past two weeks." Stacie sighs heavily, leaning back in her desk as more and more of their classmates start filing in one by one. "As a matter of fact, we haven't been getting much sleep either."

Beca gives her a concerned look then, leaning towards her to pat her shoulder. "Sorry… but if it makes you feel any better, the girls and I are going shopping after this class, so come with us. Shopping should take some of that pent up stress outta you."

Stacie smiles gratefully at her friend. "I'd love to, but Donald and I already made plans to have lunch together after this period… maybe next time."

Beca nods in understanding. "Sure." Their conversation is put on pause when their instructor, a new, young, muscular teacher walks into class, smiling his all too white, dazzling smile. "Good afternoon, class." He greets, shrugging off his laptop bag and placing it on top of his desk.

Some of the girls in the front of class start giggling rather loudly, making their instructor, Mr. Dick Van Dyke smile even wider.

Stacie and Beca shake their heads, exchanging looks of boredom. "Mr. Van Dyke is such a horny pervert." Beca whispers to Stacie, who bursts out laughing. This seems to draw attention to herself as Mr. Van Dyke looks to the back where she's seated, squinting a bit, and making every other girl in the class turn to look at her too.

"May I ask what's so funny, Ms. Conrad?" he asks in his extremely posh accent.

Stacie resists the urge to roll her eyes, "Nothing, Mr. Dyke." She says with a smirk, this time, making Beca burst out in a fit of laughter.

"What's so funny, Ms. Mitchell?" he asks, his extremely bushy eyebrows shooting up abnormally on his forehead.

"Nothing."

"Well if nothing is funny, then why are the two of you laughing? Please, do share with the rest of the class, the reason you two are laughing… We'd all love a good laugh."

Stacie almost wanted to reply sarcastically, but chose not to. She doesn't want to have to stay after class and scrape bubblegum off from under the desks. "We're really sorry, Mr. Van Dyke." She says in an apologetic tone that only Beca could tell was fake. "It won't happen again."

This seems to satisfy the young, perverted geezer, and he nods curtly before turning to the dry-erase board.

Beca leans over to Stacie, whispering in a soft, hushed tone, "Not only is he perverted, his unibrow gives him away."

Stacie tries hard to stifle her laugh, but to no avail. She busted out laughing, drawing Mr. Van Dykes attention to her again. "Ms. Conrad, I'd like to see you after class." He tells her, and turns back to continue writing their assignment on the board.

Stacie stops laughing abruptly, turning to throw a glare at Beca. "I'm sure he's more than delighted to see you after class." Beca whispers.

"I have lunch with Donald after this." Stacie whispers to her.

"Don't worry, I'm sure Pervy-Dyke is just going to subtly hit on you, and then let you go once he realizes you're already in love with someone else." Beca winks, turning to copy down the study guide for the quiz next Monday.

Stacie huffs in annoyance, turning to do the same, but she finds Mr. Van Dyke staring at her now. She looks away, immediately feeling creeped out by his stare. By the end of the class, Stacie was just ready to bolt. But, her hopes that Mr. Van Dyke had forgotten about her, are destroyed by him calling her to stay after class.

"Dammit." She mutters under her breath, glaring at Beca.

"Sorry." Beca mouths. "I'll wait for you outside."

After the class has dispersed, Stacie walks to the front of the class, waiting for the instructor to tell her what she's still doing there.

"There seems to be a problem, Stacie." It's the first time he's said her first name, and it kind of scares her how creepy he makes her name sound.

"What problem?"

"You tell me… Do you find my class funny? Or do you just laugh at random things?"

"I laugh at random things." Stacie retorts. "Look, I'm having lunch with my boyfriend in like, ten minutes, and I really don't want to be late." She says quickly, hoping the instructor would get the hint and let her go already… Unfortunately, that was the wrong thing to say.

"You need to be tutored."

"Excuse me?"

"You need a tutor, Stacie… And I'm more than delighted to help you out if you want."

Stacie blinks at the instructor for a few moments, wondering if he was joking or not. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Extremely."

"Mr. Van Dyke, no offense, but I don't think it's your call whether I need a tutor, because one, the semester has_ barely _begun. It's only been two weeks. And two, if I needed a tutor, I'd know, and I'd find one… but I really don't think I need one because I'm doing fairly well in this class, so if it's okay with you, I'd rather _not_ be tutored."

"Stacie, I'm saying you need a tutor because of your situation." Van Dyke says, gesturing to her stomach.

"What does a tutor have to do with my pregnancy?"

"Well, I figured that in a couple of months, you'll be giving birth, so I thought you'd like for someone to give you some extra help with your school work so you don't fall too behind on schedule when you become acquainted with other things."

Stacie thinks for a moment, skeptically looking at the instructor. She can't really tell whether he was sincere in his offer, or if he's really just being a pervert… but either way, she thinks he might be right in the fact that she will soon need help with her schoolwork when her pregnancy gets hard. "I—, I uhhh, I'll think about it."

Van Dyke nods, smiling at her. "Good… that's all I'm asking. And when you've made up your mind, just let me know, and we'll go from there."

"Sure… May I leave now?"

"Yes, you may." He nods, and Stacie wastes no more time in leaving the stifling room and stare of her instructor.

* * *

…

"What did that perv want?"

Stacie shrugs as she sidles up next to Beca. "He offered to tutor me."

"For what?" Beca asks incredulously. "You're not even failing and it's only the second week of school."

"That's what I told him, but he said I'll need a tutor for when my pregnancy gets difficult, and so I have to pull up my grades high enough so I'll be able to pass this class easily."

"Okay," Beca says slowly, "Either he's extremely caring, or this is a scheme to get one of his perverse fantasies to come true."

"Ew." Stacie wrinkles her nose. "He's not even my type."

"Stacie, you think there are two kinds of types in the world. There's the type you wouldn't date in a million years, and then there's Donald."

Stacie laughs at that, "Okay, I think you're exaggerating just a tad bit."

"No, I'm not… You and Donald are like magnets. The moment you come into contact with each other, it's emotionally _and_ physically impossible to separate you two… although, I've come to a solution for the physical part, which is, to pry you two apart with baby oil _and_ a crowbar."

Stacie thinks for a moment, before realizing, that Beca is absolutely right. (Well, not about the physical prying apart of her and Donald, but about her being immune to every single guy in this world but Donald.) Donald really is the only type she'd be with… Not because he's hot (though his hotness is a perk), but because she loves him with every fiber of her being. But she thinks its okay, because he loves her too. "Fine." Stacie mumbles, scanning the school parking lot for Donald's car.

Beca smirks. "Speaking of Donald, I don't think you should tell him just yet that Mr. Van Dyke offered to tutor you."

"Why not?"

Beca looks at Stacie like it should be obvious. "Because he's your boyfriend."

"And?"

Beca huffs, rolling her eyes. "Let me ask you a question… How would you feel if Donald came up to you and told you that his young, hot, sexy assistant offered to drive him home after work every day?"

Stacie narrows her eyes at her friend, "First of all, Donald doesn't have an assistant. Second, his line of work ensures that he'll only be working in the male department, so I doubt he's interacting with any girls at all. And last, I trust my boyfriend."

Beca sighs heavily, rubbing her forehead. "First of all, you missed my point completely. My question was, how would you feel if Donald told you that he's riding home with his extremely hot co-worker, who happened to be female?"

Stacie shrugs, trying to act nonchalant, though it stings just thinking of that happening. "I guess I'd be upset."

"Exactly… and by telling Donald that your young, perverted instructor offered to tutor you in a class you're not failing, you'll be upsetting Donald. He'll get angry, and bitter, and because he loves you, I know he won't tell you what to do. He'll most likely let you do whatever you want to do, because he feels bad that you're the one who has most of the pressure of the pregnancy, since you're the one carrying the baby, and not him."

"Beca, I _can't_ just lie to him."

"It's not lying, Stacie. Just don't tell him until you've made your decision of whether or not you'll take the tutoring offer from Mr. Van Pervy."

Stacie opens her mouth to answer, but then she spots Donald, pulling into the school parking lot. "Well, I guess it doesn't really matter whether I'll get a tutor because I'm not gonna accept Mr. Van Dyke's offer. I'll just ask someone else to tutor me."

Beca shrugs, "Whatever you feel is better." She says, stepping up to Stacie and kissing her cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Will do. And tell the girls I said hi."

"M'kay."

Stacie jogs up to Donald's car, smiling as he jumps out and runs around it to open her door for her. "Didn't chivalry die a while ago?"

Donald laughs, "He did. But I'm still alive, and as long as I'm alive, you won't ever have to open a single door." He leans down, pulling her into a tight embrace and kissing her gently before pulling away to stoop down and kiss her baby bump. "How's my buddy?"

"Awesome as always." Stacie smiles lovingly as Donald straightens back up and helps her climb into his car. "Where are we having lunch today?"

Donald shrugs, "Wherever you want, baby."

Stacie smiles widely, loving this extremely romantic side of Donald. He's always been romantic, but he has those little moments when she feels like she's in a fairytale, where she's the young, beautiful princess, and he's the gentle, sweet, romantic prince who bends over backwards for her. It makes her feel deliriously happy, and warm and tingly inside. "Let's go to Applebee's."

Donald nods, "Right away."

Stacie stares at him for a moment, wondering why he's all overly romantic all of a sudden. "Look at you, Mr. Romantic." She says, laughing a bit.

He glances over at her while he pulls out of the parking lot. "I have great news, babe. And I'll tell you when we get to Applebee's."

"What kind of good news?"

"The kind that makes things a bit easier for us, given our situation."

Stacie is a little confused, but she figures she'll just wait a bit for him to tell her at Applebee's. "Okay."

"How was class?"

"Boring as usual. I kept falling asleep in some of them."

Donald laughs heartily, "You sound like me."

"Yeah well, you're a big bad influence on me."

"Hmm, it's probably been transmitted sexually." He grins, winking at her.

"What is?"

"My pure awesomeness."

Stacie rolls her eyes, but she smiles still. These moments between them are rare. They mostly talk about boring stuff in the car, but today, she can definitely feel the heat spreading quickly through the car. "If your good news is good enough," she begins, making sure her voice is extra seductive, "I might just reward you tonight."

This heightens Donald's interest, his smile forming again and widening quickly. He's almost bouncing up and down in his seat. "Sweet." He says, speeding up a little, eager to get to Applebee's already. Truth be told, he's been kind of bummed out that they haven't had much sex in the past week, and it's definitely frustrating to say the least. They've been so busy lately, Stacie focusing on school, and the baby, and her appointments, and he's been focusing on work, making sure that everything at the Studio is running smoothly since he's in charge of the studio while his boss is away for a business meeting in New York. And then they get home, and they're so tired, that they just go straight to bed. Sometimes they try to have sex, but Stacie keeps pulling away, feeling uncomfortable, achy, and self-conscious. He's told her every chance he gets that she's beautiful and that there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, but then she gets uncomfortable even more, and he has to stop right there because he doesn't want to put any stress and pressure on her. He still has that guilt thing going for him about putting Stacie through a stressful life. She deserves better. And so he tries his hardest to make her happy. As long as she's happy, he's happy too.

* * *

-SD-

…

When they've been seated at a table for two in Applebee's, Donald takes the time to tell her the good news. "So, my boss came back from his trip today."

"Really? Didn't he leave like a week ago?"

Donald nods, "Yeah. He had to come back early because his wife gave birth last night."

Stacie's eyebrows shoot up. "Really? And he missed it?"

Donald laughs, "Yeah. It was actually kind of funny because he came to work this morning looking like crap, saying that he got his ass reamed by his wife because he missed their first baby's birth."

Stacie stays silent, but smiles. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Girl." Donald grins. "Anyway, when he came into the studio, he took a look around the office and he personally asked me to take care of the studio for him."

Stacie's eyebrows furrow at that, watching as Donald's grin widens. "What do you mean?"

Donald reaches across the table, taking her hand in his. "Baby, you're looking at the new manager of the Atlanta Music Studios."

Stacie's eyes widen like saucers, as a tiny, yet audible gasp leaves her lips. "Oh my God!" she gets up out of her seat, seeing him do the same, and then she's launching herself into her boyfriend's arms. "Congratulations! I'm so proud of you, babe!" she really can't believe that he's the manager of the entire Atlanta Music Studios. It's truly an accomplishment that not many rookies get to experience. And though he's fairly new to his job, Donald knows everything there is to know about music, music systems, sound systems, and everything and anything that has to do with music studios.

"Thank you…" he trails off, pulling away as they settle back into their seats, though their hands stay fused together. "I'll always take care of you and our baby, Stacie. I promise."

Stacie smiles lovingly at him, feeling so much joy, relief, and love for her boyfriend. "I _know_ you will. But even if you didn't get that job, I'd still love you. I can't imagine my life with anyone else."

That, is music to Donald's ears. He loves music and everything an instrument and a radio edit has to offer to his ears, but hearing that his girlfriend loves him and only him, is simply the most beautiful sound on planet earth. "Me too, baby."

* * *

…

After their dinner, they drive straight to their shared apartment, and Donald excitedly unlocks the door. He's barely set foot inside the house when Stacie practically grabs him by the front of his dress shirt and pushes him against the wall by the door, using her foot to kick the door closed beside them. Her lips are on his before anything else happens, and he's kissing her back with equal passion and urgency.

He's never been one to openly express his belief in God, but as Stacie maneuvers her hand between them to grind the heel of it into his crotch, he can't help but gasp, "Ahhh God," he breathes heavily, his head dropping to rest on her shoulder. "I don't think I'll last long tonight." He admits as he turns his head and kisses the spot right below her ear, the one that drives her crazy. His tongue darts out quickly as his lips latch onto her neck, sucking greedily on the sweet, sweet flesh.

Stacie barely manages to voice her own thoughts, because the words that she wants to say to him in that moment only come out as an incoherent jumble of syllables, moans, and panting.

Donald pulls away, stilling the hand of hers that's still working on grinding into his crotch, and he pulls her hand away gently. She opens her eyes then, looking up worriedly into his face, wondering if she did something wrong. He notices the worried look on her face, and he's quick to assure her with a little pleasurably pained smile. "If you don't stop that, I will surely die here before we've even started." He kisses her, softly, yet urgently, as he begins to pull her deeper into their home.

"Bedroom?" Stacie asks, looking up at the suddenly far away staircase leading up to the seemingly farther away bedroom. _Why did they purchase such an inhumanely large house with rooms that are on the second floor, and seemingly miles away from the front door? _She wonders incredulously. Truth be told, what with the pregnancy hormones and her usually sexual nature, she's extremely horny tonight, and all she wants is to push Donald on the floor and have her way with him. Luckily for her, Donald is wondering the same thing about the distance of their bedroom, and was suddenly on her like a wild animal, picking her up and kissing her again with bruising force.

"Too far." Donald mutters against her skin.

It's definitely not as comfortable as their large king-sized bed, but the couch in the living room would have to serve as their platform for tonight. They continue to make out for a bit, Stacie wrapping her arms and legs around Donald's body as he sits down on the couch with her in his lap.

Soon enough, making out wasn't enough anymore, and Donald pulls away so he can pull Stacie's blouse up and over her head, throwing it over his shoulder as he goes to kiss the swell of her breasts. Stacie throws her head back, arching into him, as a low moan escapes her lips. She's panting, more so now that she's no longer as fit as she used to be a few months ago, and with the hormones, it feels like Donald's lips were on fire whenever it came into contact with her skin. Even his hands, which are currently massaging her backside, feel like they're trying to scorch through the fabric of her jeans. She's barely able to speak from the moans she's letting out as his fingers trail slowly up her back to unlatch her bra, and leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

As soon as the black lace bra comes off, Donald is falling over her, devouring her again. _And dear_ _God, it feels like heaven. She always thought that pregnant women were exaggerating a lot when they say that sex is always amazing when your pregnancy hormones are involved, but… now that she's experiencing this, she must admit they were right. And the sex hasn't even begun yet! _But she needs it to begin, like… right _now_! She pulls Donald's head away from her chest, making sure that his eyes are on her face. He's looking from her to her breasts and back, but that's good enough for her. "In me, now." She practically growls demandingly as her hands go straight to work at pulling his shirt off.

He chuckles softly when she nearly pokes his eye out in the process of getting his shirt off, but he immediately starts unbuckling his belt. As much as he loves the foreplay and everything because it makes the sex super-hot and so damn good, he must admit that he's glad she wants to skip it tonight too, because to be honest, he's pretty sure he'll die if they don't move this along soon.

An hour later, Stacie falls back onto her boyfriend's chest, sweating and panting like she just ran a one-hundred meter marathon. Her legs are trembling, her arms are tired, and her core is still throbbing as Donald carefully slips out of her. "Holy shit." She manages with a little laugh.

Donald joins in, laughing heartily as he wraps his arms around Stacie's waist. "Yeah. You read my mind."

She turns, slipping off his chest and settling back down beside him as her head comes to rest on his chest. He's looking at her, and she can see the smirk on his face. No doubt, feeling quite smug about tonight. "Don't you dare say it." She says half-seriously, though her lips were threatening to split into a grin.

He chuckles lightly, shaking his head. "Say what?"

Her eyes narrow at him, "You_ know _what."

She knows that he knows that she knows that he knows what she's talking about, but he wants to draw this out for as long as he could. "Actually, I don't." he says with as much of an innocent smile as he can muster at the moment.

Stacie starts glaring then, smacking his chest lightly. "Well then _don't_ say it then."

He lets her think triumphantly that he's not going to say it, but he says it anyway, if only to see her reaction. "I told you so." He expected another playful smack, or maybe a light punch to the arm or chest, but what she does instead, is not what he expected, and_ so_ much worse.

Stacie smirks up at him as her hand wraps around his rather impressive manhood. "You wanna say that again?"

Donald eyes her nervously, though he's trying to bite back the groan he wants to let out as she squeezes him lightly in her hand. "Sorry, no." he breathes, grabbing her hand and trying to pry it away.

She only squeezes a bit harder, making him gasp. "I didn't quite catch that." She smiles victoriously.

Donald smiles as innocently as he can, his eyes pleading with her. "I said I'm sorry, and that I won't say it again."

She finally lets go, leaning up and kissing him quickly on the lips. "I know. Love you too, baby."

He lets out a relieved sigh as he turns slightly and kisses her again. "I love you more."

She pretends to be sleeping already, but she can't and won't hide the smile on her face.

Things won't always be this way. She knows that. But for tonight, everything is just blissfully perfect, and she wants to savor this moment. So she scoots in closer to him, smiling as his arms wrap around her body. "Goodnight, babe." She hears him whisper, kissing the top of her head before he too starts to relax and let sleep take him.

"Goodnight." She whispers back softly, kissing his neck and letting herself drift off into sleep. Tomorrow, she can go back to being exhausted, bored, annoyed, angry, hormonal, and moody, but right now, she was going to get some damn sleep.

-DS-

* * *

…

He's seething with pure, unaltered rage as he storms out of the school building, with Stacie following right behind him. He knows he should probably slow down so she can catch up to him, but he's too fucking angry right now, and he'll lose his mind if he doesn't get_ out_ of there _soon_.

"Donald, wait!" Stacie calls as soon as they make it out of the building.

He screeches to a halt, turning to glare at her. "Why didn't you tell me?" he demands.

She stops too, giving him a fearful glance before averting her eyes. "Because it wasn't important."

"Like hell it is!" Donald yells. "Stacie, he was all over you!"

"He was tutoring me!"

_So she decided two weeks ago to take Mr. Van Dyke's offer to tutor her since she couldn't find another person who was willingly offering to tutor her, and Donald was not pleased to walk into the classroom to find Stacie in a desk, with her instructor standing too closely to her, practically hovering over her face. Donald had gone ballistic, storming into the classroom, startling Stacie and the instructor as he walks right up to the guy and punches him… Hard. In the face. _

Donald could barely contain his anger as he turns to kick the closest object he could find, which was a plastic trash bin. Plastic bottles, cans, and crumpled up papers go flying in all directions among other things that Stacie doesn't care to identify at the moment. She knows what she did wrong. She had kept this from him. And he knows it.

"Then why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't lie!"

He feels like his head might explode then. "Yes, you did!" he screams. "You told me that you were hanging out with Beca and the girls!" Honestly, it hurts like a fucking knife through his chest, to know that she deliberately lied to him about what she's been doing every Wednesday after her classes. It hurts him and it scares the living shit out of him. "What are you doing with that guy!"

"He's my teacher!"

"Teachers aren't saints, Stacie!"

Her eyes narrow at him, "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you accusing me of something?"

He wants to scream in her face and say yes, he's accusing her of cheating on him with that fucktard inside the building, but even thinking it makes his chest hurt. "I'm accusing that motherfucking retard of a teacher in there of everything!"

Stacie resists the urge to roll her eyes. "This is why I didn't tell you the truth in the first place! Because I knew that this was how you were going to react!" she screams at him.

That, was definitely not the right thing to say to him. He suddenly goes quiet as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his car keys. He walks right over to her, handing them to her, and then he's walking away.

"Where are you going?" Stacie yells out, going after him again.

He doesn't say anything as he speeds right past his car, and across the street. She wants to yank her hair out in frustration as she continues to follow him across the street. He's still speeding, so she has to run a little to catch up. Surely, this wasn't healthy for the baby. The stress, that is. "Donald, where are you going?!" she screams.

He doesn't stop, but this time, he answers her. "I need some fucking time to think!"

"Well I'm coming with you!"

He stops then, turning to glare at her. She doesn't flinch, glaring right back as she continues until she's close enough to reach out and touch him. "You shouldn't be walking anywhere!" he snaps angrily at her. "It's not good for the baby."

"Then let's go back to the car."

"I said I need some damn time to think!"

"Well I'm not going home alone, Donald!"

He doesn't say anything, his jaw clenching as he glares at the road. "Stacie," his voice has turned soft, almost pleading. "I need—I just need some time to calm down, okay?" And it makes Stacie feel like crap because she's really the one who should be pleading with_ him_. _She's_ the one at fault for not telling him about her tutoring sessions. She's the one who should just shut up and apologize, yet _he's _the one who's trying to walk away if only so he doesn't say anything he's going to regret later. And it makes her heart ache even more. "Donald, _please_." She says in an almost whisper. "Please just come home with me… We can talk about it."

He shakes his head, sighing heavily. "I _really_ don't want to talk about it."

"We _have_ to talk about it." She points out. "Donald, no matter how hard we try, problems will always be lining up to try to break us apart, and we _can't_ let that happen." _Oh the irony! If she had just told him_ _about it, this wouldn't even be a problem_. She shakes her head, stepping up to him and pulling his face to look at hers. "We can't just _not_ talk about this."

After a long moment, he nods. He looks away again, still nodding as he begins to walk back towards the car without another word.

This only makes her heart ache even more. He's usually never like this. He always faces his problems head on. But as she watches him walk back to his car with his head down, she realizes that she's hurt him _more_ than she_ thought_ she did.

-SD-

* * *

…

Author's Note: So Stacie and Donald are in a bad spot right now. I know this chapter is a bit speedy, but don't worry. It's only this chapter. Next one will be about the couple making up again, but things won't be as peachy as before. Donald will be slightly distant in the next chapter, but you'll see why. Anyway, review if you have time, and let me know what you think of the story so far.

-Sux2budude


	3. Chapter 3

Title: One Day At A Time

Pairing: Stacie/Donald

Author's Note: So I know I said I'd rekindle their fire in this chapter, but I think that'd be too easy. They're under a lot more pressure than before, so I think the angst should go on for at least another chapter. And this is what I came up with. It's not great or anything, but it's what I could come up with. So I hope you guys like it. Thanks for reading, and please review! A special thanks to all of you who reviewed the previous two chapters. I really really appreciate it. Thank you so much. Anyway, enjoy!

-Sux2budude

* * *

Chapter Three:

* * *

-SD-

…

The drive back to their shared apartment is quiet…_ too_ quiet in her opinion. Stacie chances a glance in Donald's direction, and his eyes are dead set on the road. His hands are clenched tightly on the wheel at nine and three, and his lips are set in a straight line. He almost looks like a statue.

Stacie sighs heavily for the umpteenth time, hoping he'll get the hint that she wants to break the silence and talk about what happened. A few, long, torturous minutes pass, and he still doesn't say anything, so Stacie takes a deep breath and takes the first step. "I'm sorry."

Donald continues to stare at the road, not saying anything or even indicating in any way that he had heard her.

"Donald, can we please talk about this?"

"What's there to talk about?" his tone is nonchalant as he shrugs his shoulders, but Stacie can see the pain shining in his eyes.

"Please, Donald… We promised each other that we wouldn't let our problems get in the way of our relationship."

He tenses up, his grip on the steering wheel tightening further. "We also promised each other that no matter what happens, we wouldn't lie to each other, Stacie."

She tears up a little, nodding in agreement. "Yes. We did, and I'm so sorry for lying to you and keeping my tutor sessions a secret from you, and I promise, it won't ever happen again."

Donald nods, his eyes still not leaving the road. A few long moments later, he sighs deeply, glancing quickly at her. "I just don't understand why you felt the need to lie to me about this, Stacie… I mean, I wouldn't have punched the guy if I knew he was just tutoring you, but I didn't know what to think when I saw him leaning too close to you, so I jumped to conclusions and I maybe overreacted a bit."

"I know." Stacie agrees, nodding her head. "I know, and you had every right to be angry at me, but don't get mad at him. He's just trying to help me with my grade, and he wants me to have one less stressful class on my hands what with my situation."

"Are you seriously defending him?"

"No. I'm just stating a fact. He's just trying to help me."

Donald exhales heavily, shaking his head. "If you told me the truth from the beginning, I probably wouldn't have questioned his intentions… but after you lied to me, on purpose, I don't think I can really trust that_ his_ intentions are good."

Stacie nods, "I understand."

Donald looks over at her, feeling kind of bad that he's putting all this stress and pressure on her. "Look, let's just forget that any of this happened, okay?" He's doing this one for her, because he doesn't want her to go through any stress that could harm her _or_ their baby in any way.

She nods along, agreeing because she doesn't want to make him mad. She's already done enough of that by lying to him.

When they reach the house, Donald hops out of the car and walks around to open her door for her before proceeding to help her out. And the rest of the day goes by in a blur. They don't talk about anything, Donald only watching T.V for about an hour before muttering that he's tired and heads to bed, leaving Stacie to eat dinner alone.

The next few days go by in similar fashion. Donald goes to work while she goes to school, they meet up for lunch, and go home together every day, but everything seems off to Stacie. Donald isn't being mean or rude or anything of the sort, but he's a bit… distant, emotionally. He barely says anything, and when he does, it's to answer Stacie's questions. He smiles when he has to, laughs a little when she tells him something funny, and holds her hand when he accompanies her to her appointment. But Stacie notices how he pulls away sometimes. Like yesterday, when they got home after having lunch, he went straight to their bedroom and went to sleep. He woke up around 8:30p.m, ate and told Stacie that he has to be at a meeting with his boss. And Stacie has also noticed how he doesn't even make jokes anymore, or tells her corny things, or even initiates anything sexual. It's almost like he's… like he's losing interest in her. And the thought of that happening makes Stacie sick to her stomach. She's four months into her pregnancy, and her baby bump is getting fairly bigger each day. If Donald is losing interest in her now, she doesn't know if she'll be able to handle her pregnancy.

When she goes to school the next day, she knows for a fact that she probably looks like crap because the first thing Beca asked her was, "Did someone die?"

Stacie sighs heavily, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands. "No… But I think I might be close to being that."

Beca gives her a worried look, sitting down beside her. Stacie hasn't even told her about the fight that went down between her and Donald because she lied to him. "What happened?" Beca asks softly.

Stacie snorts rather humorlessly. "Well, let's see, you told me to _not _tell Donald about being tutored by Mr. Dick Pervyness, so when Donald walked into my class and saw the guy leaning over me, Donald practically lost it, and punched our teacher in the face, before leaving. Then I had to run after him, where we proceeded to have a huge fight in front of the school building, before he tried to take off, and I managed to stop him and convinced him to come home with me. Now everything is supposed to go back to normal after he said we should just drop the subject, but then he started pulling away from me, and he's distant, and I honestly think he's losing interest in me. Does that answer your question, Beca?" Stacie honestly didn't mean to be so harsh on her friend, but she really needed to vent or she'll spontaneously combust. Beca just happened to be standing too close to the firing squad at the wrong time.

However, Beca gave her an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry, Stacie… This is my entire fault. I never should've told you to lie to Donald, and now you guys are—,"

"No." Stacie cuts her off softly, hanging her head and trying to will her tears back. _And the crazy hormones start now?!_ "I'm sorry. I'm not blaming _you _at all. I'm just really frustrated and confused, and the pregnancy hormones aren't helping."

Beca nods understandingly. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Stacie sniffles a bit, looking up at her friend with a watery smile. "What are your options?"

Beca lets out a tiny laugh. "Well, I can't turn back time, or predict the future, but… I do make a mean Peanut Butter Pretzel Ice Cream Swirl that could kill you and take you to heaven."

Stacie finally lets out a small, yet genuine laugh. "I'll love you forever if you ditch school with me today and make me some of that while we watch a violent, action movie where everyone dies at the ending."

Laughing loudly, Beca jumps to her feet, hauling Stacie up as well. "I hate my next class anyway."

Stacie smiles gratefully as Beca steers her towards her car. "What's your next class?"

Beca shrugs, "P.E. I'm not really crazy about basketball yet."

-SD-

* * *

…

Turns out, a break from school is exactly what Stacie needed to get out of her sulking-mode. Beca's Peanut Butter Pretzel Ice Cream Swirl was nothing short of amazing. Stacie couldn't stop sinking her plastic spoon into the bowl, devouring every last bit of Vanilla ice cream, crushed pretzel, peanut butter, chocolate syrup, and whipped cream. She moaned lightly as she finally scooped up the last piece of ice-cream smothered pretzel piece.

Beca laughs at her, "Is that the face you make when you're doing_ it_ with Donald?"

Stacie rolls her eyes at her, "Shut it, this is amazing."

Beca shrugs, "I'm just asking, Stace. You look like you're having an orgasm."

Stacie laughs, throwing her plastic spoon at Beca who ducks down, laughing hysterically. "I swear, you have the dirtiest mind on planet earth."

Snorting, Beca sets down her own bowl of peanut butter pretzel ice cream goodness, "Trust me. I know I'm dirty, but no one on this planet has a dirtier mind than my baby boy."

Stacie quirks an eyebrow at her. "You're bluffing, right?"

Beca shakes her head seriously.

"Jesse? No way. But he's_ so_ quiet all the time."

Beca laughs harder, "Yeah. That's what everyone said. Even _I_ thought it, until I officially dated him. And don't get me wrong, I love Jesse to death, but his mind is definitely dirtier than mine." Winking at Stacie, Beca adds, "If ya know what I mean."

Stacie wrinkles her nose at her friend. "Ew, gross. Do _not _go into details about you and your boytoy's sexcapades."

"I wasn't going to. But get this, Stace. Though Jesse and I are the dirty ones, no one, and I mean absolutely _no one_ beats you and Donald's sexcapades."

Stacie laughs, not bothering to deny it. She sighs a bit sadly. "Though I think the correct term would be 'no one beats mine and Donald's sexcapades _yet_."

Beca smiles sadly at her friend, scooting closer and pulling Stacie into a hug. "I don't know why you ever worry about Donald losing interest in you. That guy looks at you like you hung the freakin' moon, Stace. He_ loves_ you. I mean, this is the guy who came _back_ to life when he heard_ you_. He _fought_ death, and _won_, so he could be _with you_. I _really _don't think a little fight between the two of you is going to make him change his mind about the way he feels about you. And quite frankly, I don't think he'll _ever _change his mind about you."

Stacie lets her lips quirk a bit at the sides, "You really think so?"

"I _know_ so… So what _you're_ going to do tonight is you're going to make a nice romantic dinner, sit down with your baby daddy, and talk to him about the way he's been acting. And no matter _what _happens, you _need_ to get an answer from him."

"I don't think he'll even listen."

"Then tell him to do it for _you_."

That night, Stacie goes home feeling a whole lot better than she did when she left the house this morning. She decides to go home a bit early, calling Donald and telling him that she'll be at home after class, so he doesn't have to pick her up after work. He voices that he'll be home a bit late, and that he'll see her tonight, hanging up in the middle of Stacie's 'I love you'. She writes it off as a simple mistaken accident, and goes about fixing dinner for her and Donald.

He's supposed to get off work at 5p.m, so she works according to the time, not wanting his food to get cold when he gets home. When she's done cooking, making roast beef, mashed potatoes, lamb chops, and even baking Donald's favorite chocolate chip cookies, she sets the table, turns the light dial to low, lights a few scented candles, and plays some soft, relaxing music to ease the mood for their fairly romantic dinner. She takes a quick shower, slipping into a warm and comfortable sundress that accentuates her newly developed baby curves, and a matching pair of flats. She waits patiently in the dining room, excited to see Donald's reaction to her surprise. He's always been a hopeless romantic at heart, so she knows he'll appreciate her effort.

So she waits.

7p.m.—She's a bit worried about why he's late, so she calls his phone a couple of times, but she only gets his answering machine.

And she waits.

8p.m.—She's beginning to have scary scenarios running through her head about why Donald is late, so she calls him again, but like the first few times, she gets his answering machine again.

And she continues to wait, worrying for his safety, and whether he's even okay. Maybe he got held up at work or something.

9p.m.

Her back is aching from sitting and waiting for so long, and she can see that Donald isn't coming home anytime soon. She just hopes he's safe. She moves to the candles, blowing each one out, and then she clears out the table, throwing all the uneaten food into the garbage can in the back. After cleaning out the dining room, she moves into the living room, and gets comfortable on the couch. Slowly, she drifts into sleep.

* * *

…

Stacie is jolted out of her sleep by the sound of the door slamming closed, and she jumps to her feet, cautiously making her way to the door. She's relieved to see that it's Donald, but her relief is quickly replaced by hurt, fury, and confusion as she watches him stumble drunkenly through the hallway.

He walks right past her and collapses onto the couch that she was just on a few seconds ago, completely ignoring her. She walks up, towering over him with her hands on her hips. Maybe it's the pregnancy hormones, but Stacie was very close to bonking him over the head with something hard. He reeks of some strong alcoholic drink that almost makes her sick.

"Do you have any idea what time it is, Donald?" on second thought, she glances back at the clock hanging on the other side of the living room. Its past one o'clock.

Donald looks up at her, shrugging his shoulders. "Late?"

"Yes! It's past one o'clock!"

"So?"

His question burns like a raging fire that Stacie was almost sure was flaring through her eyes as she glares down at him. "I waited up for you! I made us dinner, and waited for your ass to get home, and I ended up having to throw the food out because it got cold."

Donald doesn't even move an inch. He only stares blankly at her. "Well I'm sorry. I just went out with some of my co-workers for a couple of drinks and I lost track of time. What's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal?" Stacie asks in disbelief. "Oh, it is a _fucking big_ deal! Do you have any idea how worried I was? I called you a hundred times and I kept getting your damn answering machine! I'm over here, pregnant with your baby, worried _sick_ that you had gotten into an accident, or maybe you were beaten to death in an alleyway somewhere, and you ask me what the big deal is?!" Even though she's angry, she can't help the way her tears threaten to spill at the nonchalant way he's just dismissing things. It's not like him.

Donald sighs heavily, sitting up and rubbing his face in frustration. "I never asked you to wait up for me, Stacie."

"Well what the hell was I supposed to do when the father of my child is out in God knows where, doing God knows what?!"

"Jesus Christ, Stacie! We're not fucking married! Can you lay off me?!"

Stacie gasps loudly, as she felt her heart plummet to the ground, and she could no longer hold back her tears. "You're right." She says softly. "We're_ not_ married, so you're not my problem."

Donald sighs; giving her an apologetic look as he slowly gets off the couch. "Stacie, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just really tired right now, and—,"

"You don't have to explain, Donald." Stacie cuts him off. "Maybe you should sleep out here." She turns on her heels and walks towards the stairs leading to the bedroom. She hears him sighing heavily, and she feels her eyes stinging with fresh tears. He used to fight harder for her. Now he's not even trying.

_What's happening to them?_

* * *

-SD-

…

Author's Note: Yet another angsty moment between one of our favorite pitch perfect couples. And yeah, I kind of ended it in a bit of a cliff-hanger way, and I apologize for that, but I promise I won't take too long to post the next chapter. I hope you guys liked this chapter. I'll be working on the next chapter, and it'll be up soon. Anyway, REVIEW if you have time. Thanks for reading, and a HUGE thank you to all the people who actually took the time to review the previous chapters. I really really appreciate it.

-Sux2budude


	4. Chapter 4

Title: One Day At A Time

Pairing: Stacie/Donald

Author's Note: Hey all! Sorry it took a while to get this chapter up. I've been writing a few other stories that kept interrupting me. Anyway, I finally finished this chapter, and I hope you all like it. R&R!

-Sux2budude

* * *

Chapter Four:

* * *

-DS-

…

Donald groans lightly, as he rolls over to get closer to Stacie, but he yelps as he plummets off the bed and lands on the floor with a thud. His eyes scan around him confusedly, realizing that he isn't even in their bedroom, but rather, on the floor inside the living room. His eyebrows furrow as he slowly gets up, wincing as a wave of nausea and dizziness hits him. "Fuck." He mutters under his breath. He tries to remember the events from last night, and that's when he realizes why he was sleeping on the couch. Last night's events are a bit blurry, but he certainly remembers the little argument that went down between him and Stacie.

Last night, through his drunken state of mind, he was convinced that he was righteously angry at Stacie for being all up on him while he was drunk and tired. But right now, while he's sober and feeling like he got hit by a bus after he'd just finished head-butting a moose, he realizes how stupid and idiotic he'd been acting last night. He groans louder as he starts towards the bedroom, ready to get on his knees and beg her to forgive him for acting like a grad-A asshole.

His hopes of talking to her are sent straight to hell when he finds the bedroom, empty. He sighs heavily, feeling a hundred times worse than he did just a couple of seconds ago. He takes a seat on the bed, not knowing what to do next. He finds a note on the dresser, with his name on it, and he feels just the slightest bit of hope as he quickly opens it up and begins to read.

_-Gone out for a bit. I'll be back later. Please don't call me. I just need some time away from you._

_-Stacie_

Donald's eyebrows furrow as he rereads the note over and over again. "Don't worry about her? Is she insane?" he mutters under his breath. And for a moment, he gets a weird sense of déjà vu; instead, Stacie's the one who's worried about _him_. "I'm such a fucking idiot." He sighs. He rereads Stacie's letter once more, before just a tiny spark of an idea comes to him.

He quickly reaches into his pocket, thankful that his phone is still there, though it's still on silent from last night. He finally sees all the missed calls from Stacie last night. Nine from Stacie, three from Bumper, and four from Jesse. There are three voice messages from Stacie from last night. He listens to the first one, wishing he could turn back time as he starts to play it.

"_Donald, it's me… where are you? I'm really worried about you. Anyway, call me when you get this."_

Donald winces at the loud screeching that Stacie lets out in her second message_: "DONALD, PICK UP YOUR DAMN PHONE, RIGHT THIS INSTANT! I'M NOT JOKING, MISTER! ANSWER YOUR PHONE!"_

And then her voice turns soft, laced with concern in her last message: _"Babe, please answer your phone. I'm really worried now. I'm not playing, so please just come home, or at least answer your damn phone. Call me as soon as you can… I love you."_

Donald almost had tears in his eyes as he pulls the phone away from his ear. "I love you too, baby." He mutters in reply to the message.

He types out a quick text message to Stacie and sends it before he can chicken out.

Donald_: I'm txting u because your note said not to call you. I'm so sorry, Stacie. Pls come home. I'm sorry. And I love you so much. I didn't mean anything I said last night. I was just acting like a drunken idiot. Please come home. Where are you?_

He waits almost five minutes before he finally gets a reply, jumping a little as the phone vibrates in his hand. He actually expected her to ignore him. He quickly opens the message, and reads it quickly.

Stacie:_ I know. I'll be home later. I just need some time away from you, okay?_

Donald: _okay. Where are you? Please just humor me and tell me where you are. _

Stacie: _Promise me you won't show up here and try to make me come home?_

Donald: _Promise._

Stacie: _I'm at Beca's apartment._

Donald_: Okay. I'm sorry Stacie. I promise I'll make things better when you come home. I love you_

Stacie: _I'll talk to you later._

Donald sighs heavily, chucking his phone onto the bed. "All because you're a fucking idiot, Donald!" he growls at himself.

He spends the day sulking and wallowing in misery, watching T.V, playing candy crush on his phone, and staring at the door, waiting for Stacie to come home. It's around 6 P.M when he finally hears the roaring of an engine in front of the house, before shutting off in the driveway, and he practically sprints to the door, stopping there and waiting for Stacie to come in.

* * *

…

Stacie parks her car and slowly trudges to the front door of her and Donald's apartment, hoping to at least not fight with him tonight. She tries the door knob, finding that it's unlocked, and she pulls it open to nearly have a heart attack when she comes face to face with Donald, standing at the door, looking at her like he just saw someone die.

Stacie silently closes the door behind her, her eyes pulling away from his sad, regretful ones.

"Can we talk?" Donald asks as Stacie begins down the hallway leading to the stairs.

"About what?" Stacie retorts, not really in the mood to talk to him at the moment. She had spent the day telling Beca about Donald's actions the previous nights, to which Beca had asked if he had hit her or anything. Stacie had of course, immediately defended Donald. Even though he was acting like an asshole last night, she still loves him, and she knows that he would never ever lay a finger on her. He could never do that to her. That much, is _clear_.

Donald gently grasps her arm to face her towards him. "Stacie, please." He whispers softly, his eyes holding every bit of remorse and regret that he feels. "Can I at least say something?"

Stacie could feel the little bit of anger towards him that she had been holding onto, slip away at the sight of Donald's eyes. She feels the tiny sting of tears in her eyes as she finally stares right into the eyes that she loves so much. No matter how angry she is with him, she could never hate him, or stop loving him. And by the look he's giving her _now_, she thinks he feels the same way for her. Finally, she nods, and she silently leads the way towards the living room, where they both settle themselves down onto the couch.

"Stacie, I'm so sorry." Donald says sincerely, going straight to the point. "I know I'm an asshole. I acted like a complete idiot last night, I said things that I didn't mean, and I didn't stop to think about how much pressure you're going through, and I am so, so sorry… I'm sorry that I'm already acting like a terrible father to our baby. I'm sorry that I'm always immature, and I'm especially sorry that I don't tell you every day, that I love you… so—,"

"Stop." Stacie cuts him off, her fingers rubbing her temple. She's pregnant, so she knows that the hormones are the blame for the headaches she's been having all day, but dear God above, she doesn't know if she can fight it any longer. She's grateful that Donald, at least, has stopped talking, though his eyes stay glued to her.

Stacie lets out a heavy sigh, and though her stubbornness tells her to stay angry at him, her heart tells her otherwise, because as of right now, her head feels like it will explode if their current issue isn't resolved in the next twenty seconds. Chances are, if she goes on to being stubborn, Donald's mouth will eventually say something that will ultimately snap the thin line of sanity that she has left, and this 'small' issue of theirs, will either lead to her going on a hormone-driven murdering rampage, or an epic breakup… and because she does _not _want either of that, she opens her mouth and says what she knows will definitely defuse the metaphorical bomb. "I forgive you."

Donald's eyebrows furrow as if he doesn't understand the three words she's just uttered. "What?" He's genuinely confused, because he knows Stacie, and he also knows how stubborn she can be. And though he wants to shut up and nod and hug and kiss her, he's also an idiot, and he says something really stupid that makes him want to punch himself for, a moment later. "No you don't."

Stacie sighs again, leaning back against the couch as her hands fall around her protruding baby bump. Donald's eyes follow the movement of her hands, and she knows that he's itching to touch it too. "You're right." Stacie shrugs, "I don't." no use in denying the truth. She glances over at Donald, and she can see the questioning look on his face, waiting for an explanation for her words. "But I also don't want to fight." It's all she can offer right now. She's tired, achy, hormonal, moody, and presently teetering on the edge of her sanity. If she's going to be forced to explain any more than that, she'll have to exit the room before she ends up strangling her boyfriend.

Luckily enough for Donald _and _her sakes (but mostly Donald's), he senses her discomfort and keeps his mouth closed. She can feel and hear him inching closer to her side, and though the insistent part of her brain is telling her to apprehend him; the logical- emotionally exhausted side of her just wants to be wrapped up in his arms and forget about their fight. She doesn't move as he slides over to her side, his leg pressing gently against hers.

"Can I touch you?" his question isn't all that idiotic because of Stacie's mood, so she nods. His arm immediately goes to rest around her shoulders, and Stacie appreciates the warmth that's coupled with the gesture. She hesitates for a moment, but ultimately decides to just drop her anger as she leans her head against his chest. "I'm so sorry, Stacie." Donald mutters softly against her hair as he rests his cheek atop her head.

Stacie nods again, closing her eyes for a moment to gather her nerves. Inhaling deeply, she finally opens her eyes and pulls slightly away from Donald so she can look at him. She's not surprised to see the sincere look in his eyes, and she gives him the tiniest hint of a smile. "I know." She looks down to where the back of his hand is pressed against thigh, and she takes it in hers, squeezing it gently. "I also know that you didn't mean anything you said to me last night, mostly because I've seen you drunk before, and you usually say stupid shit when you're drunk."

This makes Donald laugh, and Stacie feels exceedingly grateful that the heavy disposition in the air has been diminished. His laugh dies down rather quickly though, and he gives her a serious look that means honesty. "You may be right, but I still don't have an excuse for getting drunk."

"I think you _do_." Stacie responds, her eyebrow quirking slightly. Donald looks away, confirming Stacie's unspoken theory. "You're still upset about the fact that I _lied_ to you about my tutoring sessions, and you're doubting me."

Donald's eyes turn back to stare into hers, and he swallows nervously. "I'm sorry" he mutters softly "… I just—I feel like—like I don't deserve you, and I'm just constantly waiting for you to break up with me, or lost interest, or—,"

Stacie silences Donald by pressing her hand to his mouth, whispering a soft, yet stern, "Stop." She waits for his nod, before slowly removing her hand from his mouth, and replacing it with her own. It's really just a quick peck, but she tries her best to transmit her love for him in that short kiss. When she pulls away, she gives him a serious, almost scolding look. "If there's one thing I'm still angry at you for, it's the fact that you _still _believe that there's someone out there who can be what I deserve… so I'm going to tell once again, that no one, and I mean, absolutely no one on God's green earth, deserves me more than _you_ do. You make me happier than I've ever been in my entire life, you make me want to be better at everything, you challenge me in ways that no other human being can, and you hold every single piece of my heart… Donald, you are the father of my child, and the love of my life. What more can I possibly say to you to make you believe that?"

He has to close his eyes to keep from crying like a freaking pansy. He knows that she means every word she says, but it still doesn't stop him from believing that absolutely no one on this planet deserves such a beautiful and amazing person as her. And because of that, he feels like the luckiest guy on this planet. He nods slowly, smiling widely at the mother of his child, and the only woman he loved, loves, and will ever love. "I believe you." He tells her honestly. "I just don't believe myself… I acted like a complete idiot, and I'm sorry. But I _will_ promise you that from now on, I will try my_ best_ to be a good father to our baby, and the best life-partner for you."

Stacie squints at Donald, her mouth suddenly going dry. "Are you asking me to marry you?"

Donald shakes his head, and Stacie feels the sharp sting of disappointment at that. But, he's quick to reply. "Not yet… I _know_ you're the only person that I can imagine a life with in the future, so I know it'll eventually lead up to marriage."

"But?" Stacie nervously asks, her heart beginning to race at what he's about to say next.

"But when I finally ask you, I want it to be everything you want it to be. I want it to be perfect, and cheesy, and romantic, and—,"

Stacie cuts him off again, but this time, she does it with her lips, pressing against his passionately. It takes a bit over a minute, but when she pulls away, she rests her forehead against his and she lets herself smile, because his answer is much better than she thought. "I don't care if you propose to me with a plastic ring, Donald… I already know what my answer will be."

Donald chuckles lightly, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him. "Now I'm curious as to what your answer will be." He mutters, pressing another kiss to her lips.

"Then maybe you should ask _soon_." With that, Stacie gets up off the couch, taking a little longer than she would have taken before pregnancy, but not really minding. Donald's eyes follow her.

"Where are you going?"

"Your spawn is craving something sweet, and I seriously do not want to have to wake up around 3 in the morning to make you run to the store for ice cream because it won't stop kicking my kidneys."

Donald smiles, but sighs in exasperation. He was actually getting ready to try to coax out Stacie's answer to his future proposal.

"Oh, and Donald?"

Donald looks back up at her, offering a grin. "Yeah?"

"That kiss I gave you is your hint to my answer." Stacie winks, before walking away to the kitchen, swaying her hips daintily.

Donald couldn't help the way his stomach was fluttering girlishly. "I_ gotta_ ask her soon." He mutters to himself, before getting up and following Stacie into the kitchen.

Bomb, successfully defused.

* * *

...

Author's Note: Hello, you wonderful people! This concludes chapter 4, and I hope you all like it. And I added that nice little hint at the end of the chapter for what is to come in a bit. Anyway, please leave a review. A big thanks to those who reviewed the previous chapters. I love you all!

-Sux2budude


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